Mistress
by TheDrunkenWerewolf
Summary: She never intended to become his mistress. Or fracture a marriage. Or start waging an unwinnable war for his heart. But she had loved him for so long, and been so insanely jealous of Ichimaru's position in his life ever since she'd heard the rumours. But jealousy and love made her stupid, and these things happened. Heirverse. Angst/tragedy/romance. Companion to Can we survive this?


Business first: If I owned Bleach, this would not be called "heirverse" it would be called "canon". As it stands, this is the insane heirverse au and not canon. Also, I do not condone cheating in real life. It is the worst thing you can do to a person. The worst.

A/n: This is the sister story to _Can we survive this?_ inspired greatly by Copycat by CircusP. Momo's side of the story in which I attempt to show how much of an unwitting player in the game she is. No matter if it ends badly for her. Again, part of my heirverse series but can be read on its own, as always :) There is some overlap between this and Survive, but it shouldn't affect the story too much. (she says... while making all the story cross references under the sun... but no, it can still be read as a standalone if thats how ya wanna roll)

Also trying a thing where I write the ending first and writing up to that point. Sort of a "Okay how did she get to this point here?" thing and going back on myself in the timeline/plot. I'm sure there's a proper term for this, but I can't think of it. If anyone knows it, let me know.

Genres: angst, romance, tragedy (this is the heirverse after all, these things are standard issue)

Notes: AiHina. AiGin. Sex. Lies. Deceptions. Cheating. Chessboarding. Drama. Arguing. Vitriol. Emotional distress. Swearing. Sexual themes. Mad canon divergence. And story cross references everywhere.

Anyway, enjoy. Gosh this was hard to write and darker than my usual heirverse forays. I'm gonna go work on a happier story now. _Helios_ here I come.

Quick edit: it is not my intention at all to demonise Momo in any way at all here. I just want to tell her side of the story, and go into how much she was a pawn in Aizen's games, an unwitting player, and ultimately a victim. I love Momo as a character, and I wish to explore her role in all of this. I plan to write a bit on her recovery after the stabbing in another story (as this one is the story of the affair itself) and show her dealing with the trauma and show her getting past this and becoming a better/stronger person outside Aizen's toxic influences. Not that I am in any way excusing her actions at all.

* * *

 _I'll become what you like  
_ _This is what you wanted, right?  
_ _Sacrifice all I know  
_ _I will teach myself to let go..._

 _\- Copycat (CircusP)_

 **Prologue: I Never Wanted This**

She'd never intended for it to happen. Actually, she never intended for _any_ of this mess to happen. She never intended for anyone to get hurt, either. Not by her lies, his betrayal, his defection... none of it. Least of all herself. Because hurting people, stabbing them in the back, destroying lives... that wasn't something she did. That wasn't her.

Until it was. When a man called Aizen Sousuke changed her. Tainted her. Morphed her into a woman she didn't recognise when she looked in the mirror. He'd altered her into a woman who lied and deceived and did whatever she had to do to get what she wanted. Who she wanted. He was a man who'd brought up all the dark and ugly parts of her soul to the surface with very little effort on his part. In fact, it was probably fair to say it involved zero effort for him, that the darker side to her had always existed beneath the cheerful, bubbly exterior she showed to the world. A side of her that lied, cheated, manipulated... all to achieve her own goals.

Just like him.

And what a great big mess she'd caused, too. All to accomplish her own stupid, small-minded, selfish little goals. Goals that, in the end, hadn't mattered, nearly cost her life, and only drove him to defect to the wastelands of Huecco Mundo.

No wonder he left her behind. No wonder he hated her. Everyone else did. Herself more than anyone. It was no wonder she was a pariah, why they all pretended to be nice when they came to visit her in the hospital. Why they feigned sympathy.

She curled her body inward, hugging her knees in said hospital bed, wanting to cry. To weep for days at what he had done to her. At what she had done to herself. Weep until all the pain around her heart went away. She could feel her hands shaking, her lips trembling. Tears were already forming in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. Or at least, she tried to blink them away. She wasn't having much success.

 _Stupid._ She cursed herself again. _I can't believe I was so_ _ **stupid**_ _. I feel like a_ _ **fool**_ _._

A small choked sob escaped her throat, and her entire body trembled beneath the soft, white cotton of her duvet.

 _No. Don't cry. You don't deserve to cry. Don't cry. Don't..._

But the commands were useless. She was already dissolving into tears, and her body and mind were just too exhausted to fight it. So she clutched herself tightly and she sobbed. Sobbed so hard it physically hurt her chest and her ribs and throat. Large tears rolling down her cheeks, even after she thought she'd reached the point where she couldn't cry anymore. She cried over him. Over herself. Her own stupidity and thoughtlessness. Her own selfishness. Because she'd known he had someone else. She'd known he was married. Well, maybe not at the start, but she did find out.

She knew it was a bad idea. That getting into bed with him was asking for trouble. That doing so would hurt people, destroy lives. And she'd gone and done it anyway. Like a fool. Like a selfish, petty, stupid fool.

She supposed now that she couldn't help it. She was young. She was naïve. She loved him. She'd got caught up in his compliments and charm and she could even say he took advantage of her. After all, she hadn't known he was married. He did. He was at fault.

Not that that was any excuse, she knew. But they were the reasons they gave her for placing the blame squarely on Aizen.

She knew they were just trying to make her feel better about it. Toshiro even wanted bloody wrathful vengeance on her behalf, not knowing the whole story because she'd begged and pleaded Unohana Taichou to not divulge everything to him. Because Unohana was the one who ran the rape kit, at Toshiro's insistence while she was comatose, and only found evidence of consensual sexual activity. She'd had other tests done, too. And an operation that left her with a sense that something very important inside her was missing when she awoke for the first time since the stabbing. But she didn't want to think about that right now.

 _Homewrecking whore,_ his partner's accusation bounced around her skull. Vitriolic and spiteful. His trademark grin twisted beyond recognition into an expression of pure malice as he hissed at her. Spitting his venom at her like a fanged viper. _I hope yer fuckin' happy tha' ya wrecked my life. Yer a_ _ **pathetic**_ _excuse fer a human being._

 _Ya do know ya wrecked my marriage, right? Ya did know we were married, right?_

And the worst part of it all was the fact that he was _right._ That she couldn't repudiate the words because they were all true. The facts were facts. She was indeed a liar, a deceiver, a destroyer of a perfectly happy relationship... a marriage. Okay, maybe at the start of the illicit affair she hadn't known. But when that bit of information had come to light, she should have broken things off. Stayed as far away from him as physically and reasonably possible. But she hadn't.

So in answer to his questions, she could only cast her eyes down and nod, offering a meek _yes._ Because she did. She did know. She just didn't care.

Instead, she kept seeing him. And seeing him. Again.

Again.

Again.

She'd wanted to stop. She'd needed to stop before all of it blew up in her face. But she couldn't stop. He was already too far and deep in her system, and she needed him to survive. To make her feel good when nothing else could anymore. She let him lead her down a path that only led to her destruction. To the affair exploding right in her face and making her a pariah in the eyes of nearly everyone in her division, and more than a few outside it. To losing all of her friends.

And for what? Love? Aizen Sousuke had gored her through with his own zanpaktou. He did not love her.

After all, when a man takes a mistress, he doesn't suddenly turn around and divorce his wife.

She was a pawn, she realised. Only, too little too late. A pawn in his game of chess. And when she'd outlasted her usefulness to him, he'd cast her off. And then run her through just for good measure. Probably at the behest of his partner.

 _What should I do with her?_ Sousuke might have asked. And she could just picture the younger man's twisted grin.

 _Destroy her,_ she could just imagine him saying, that wicked smile spreading across his face. _Destroy her for me, Sousuke. I want that whore gone._

He'd have his pale, thin fingers tangled in his lover's hair, her Sousuke's hair, their bodies united as he spoke. Grin so wide it might split his face, sensual and malicious both at once. Sensual towards his lover, malicious towards her.

 _Run her through for me, Sousuke._

She let her fingertips run over the newly healed scar, just over an inch in length, from where his sword had entered her. There was another identical scar on her back, marking the exit wound. The clean, healthy tissues replaced with twisted, puckered scar tissue. They were marks she would carry forever. Reminders of her mistake of trusting him. Loving him. His brands, deeming her expendable. Marking her as his, ad infinitum.

But then, she never had been content with the invisible marks of his ownership on her skin. She had wanted something that would last.

This would last, all right. She'd been branded. Marked.

Discarded.

Her chest constricted, pain surging through her heart at the memory of it. His warm arms. The cold steel. His last goodbye before the black spots danced in her vision and she hit the floor with a sickening thud.

 _Goodbye._

It was like it wasn't even his voice. Like another person were inhabiting his body and speaking with his voice, using his arms to hold her close.

 _I know that was Aizen-Taichou. It was his body and his voice. But I also know it wasn't. It couldn't have been... it couldn't... he loved me. He said he loved me. It couldn't have been him..._

But it _could._ It _had._

That was what hurt the most. The fact that Captain Aizen really _could,_ really _had_ done this to her.

 _Do I mean nothing to you?!_ She wanted to scream at him. To throw plates and breakable, sharp objects at him. _Did what we have mean_ _ **nothing**_ _to you?!_

But of course, there was no-one there to scream at.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. No. No, this wouldn't do. She couldn't start crying again. Go back to that dark place. Not when they were finally starting to wean her off the medication that dulled the extremes of emotions and senses, and made her sleep all day. If she went back there, she'd never get out of this hospital bed. They wanted her to get better so she had to get better. Or at least pretend to be. Because she'd never get better. Not really. Not after what he'd done to her.

But she had to at least pay lip service and go through the motions of recovery. Otherwise they'd commit her to one of the asylums, labeled unfit for duty, lock her up in a tiny little cell and forget about her.

She let a couple of the tears fall, telling herself sternly, _these are the last, the last tears I shed because of him._ But they weren't. Because more just kept coming... and coming... until eventually her whole body was wracked with visceral sobs.

 _Will I get through this somehow? Right here and now?_ She wondered. _Will I ever feel normal again after this?_

"I never wanted this," she whispered into her duvet. "I never wanted _this."_

Her body dissolved into another fit of quiet sobbing, and Momo was glad there was nobody up at this hour on the ward. Tonight was her last night of living in the hospital, and if anyone saw her like this, they'd only extend her stay. At least she was buried under the duvet completely, so if anyone did come in, they'd think she was fast asleep.

"Why did you have to leave me all alone?" She asked him. Or rather, her duvet. "I'd have gone with you. Done anything for you. You know that.

She swallowed thickly, even her throat felt closed up.

"Why, Sousuke?" _What does he have that I don't?_

It was the first time she'd spoken his given name aloud, since it happened. And she waited, tense, terrified. Expecting them to pounce on her and cart her off to the loony bin for speaking of him. But minutes passed, and nobody appeared. Slowly, she let her body relax. She was safe. And the terror of the moment melted away. It was a real fear, too. The last time she'd asked about him, she got shut down and told not to think about him, to focus on getting better. His name was met with hatred, and if they detected the slightest bit of affection in her voice for him, they looked at her with pity in their eyes. Whenever she cried about him, particularly in the early days, she was sent straight to the land of sleep via sedative, and shipped off to therapy as soon as she could sit upright upon waking.

She knew they were just trying to help her, but it did feel like she had to walk on eggshells, and watch her words carefully. Because they were all against her, just waiting for her to slip up.

Maybe she was being a little paranoid, but getting stabbed in the heart, figuratively _and_ literally by someone you loved and trusted did that to a person.

"Tell me why," she whispered again, demanding an answer from her duvet. It would be the last time she would ask; she knew the answer already.

 _Destroy her for me, Sousuke._

She wondered, fleetingly, if there was a way she could have won that war with Ichimaru. Made Captain Aizen choose her over him. Because had she not done everything he wanted? Become everything he liked in a vice captain? Proven herself enough to him?

 _How could you leave me? I'd become what you like. I was what you wanted, right? Hadn't I sacrificed all I've known for you? Taught myself to let go of who I was for you?_

Hadn't she finally become good enough for him? Because Ichimaru _certainly_ wasn't good enough for him. Not by a long shot. In fact, she doubted _anyone_ was ever good enough for him, if he left her behind.

She didn't know. And he was too far away to ask.

She squeezed her eyes shut and wept.

 _Wasn't I good enough for you?_

She took a deep, trembling breath in between sobs. _How could you do this to me? I loved you. But you charred my heart into ash. Broke me down and left me alone to cry. I just... I want it to stop hurting. Because I'm drowning. This pain is crushing me. I've lost everything. My life... my friends... I'm a pariah in my division... everyone thinks I'm crazy... I've... I've lost my..._

she sniffed and pressed her face into her pillow to muffle her wails, stifle her anguish into something quieter so nobody heard it.

Letting it out was fine, as long as nobody heard it.

She had to let it out, though. It was either that or go crazy with unexpressed rage and grief and betrayal.

 _And_ _ **you**_ _._ Anger surged through her, then. Because it just wasn't fair. _How do you get to run off to the Hollow world while I get left to deal with the fallout of what you've done? How do_ _ **you**_ _escape this without a scratch on you? How do you end up with everything and leave me with nothing but a hole in my heart._

She wanted to rage and scream. Because if there was any justice in the world, things wouldn't _be_ this way. If there was any justice, any at all, _he'd_ be the one suffering for what he'd done.

But the world was cruel. And there was no justice. Only the justice one made for themselves.

 _I may have done wrong, but I didn't deserve this. Nobody deserves the pain you put me through. Nobody._

She wiped her eyes, her sobs dying away, fuelled now by an indignant rage. Because she'd loved him and he'd betrayed her. Cast her aside like a broken toy. A used doll he'd grown bored of playing with. She'd been foolish. She knew the rumours. She knew his reputation, and refused to believe those things of her Captain Aizen. She'd been just like all of his others before Ichimaru... used and discarded. And stupidly, she'd thought she'd be different. An idiotic idea. If he could use and discard Ichimaru, whom he'd been with for _decades_ , she had a snowflakes chance in hell with him. She'd really been a _**fool.**_

 _Never again._ She decided. _Never again will I love anyone so blindly and stupidly._

Because what was the point in mistakes, if one never learned from them?

She set her jaw firmly and pulled herself together. She was supposed to be stronger than this. She was supposed to be getting _better._ Moving forward. Moving _on_ from him. She'd been getting _better..._ she _wanted_ to get better... to start living again. To feel like herself again instead of the crying, whimpering shell of a girl he'd left her as.

She wanted to _hate_ him.

But it seemed her stupid heart couldn't even do that. There just wasn't enough _room_ inside her to keep any hatred for him. In fact, she didn't think she had it in her to hate anyone, even him. Even though she knew Toshiro did. Everyone else did. Why couldn't she? Hating him would be so much easier than loving him. Make everything far easier than it was now; pretending to be fine, crying in secret, heart being torn in two. Carrying around his bullet of a heartbreak inside her, feeling its weight on her like a stone. She did try, to hate him. She tried so very hard to hate him...

But she just didn't have it in her.

Whether her heart was just too soft, or whether he'd tangled her up so much in his web of deceit that she couldn't escape, she wasn't sure. But she did know that she'd loved him. Perhaps she even loved him still, even now. Even after being so viciously betrayed by him.

Maybe that was why she couldn't hate him, because love negated hate.

Who knew? Who cared?

 _You care,_ a little voice inside her said quietly. Tobiume's voice, soft and gentle. _Why else would you be suffering now, if you didn't care?_

That one simple, objective comment only made the pain in her heart return with a vengeance, and caused more tears to fall from her eyes, the floodgates opening again. It was true. She did care.

 _God, how many times will I cry over him? How many more tears will I shed before this is done?_

She didn't know how long she lay under the covers crying her heart our for, but when she emerged, dry eyed, the dawn was creeping its way in through the white window blinds, dimly illuminating the room. Soon she would have to get up and resume her duties as a shinigami. Albeit, on reduced hours on a phased return to work plan. But still. She was returning to work. To her life. Because they had deemed her well enough to re-enter society. Because she was getting _better._

She risked a glance at the clock. Four hours. In four hours they would discharge her. In four hours she'd no longer be living in the hospital. In just four hours, she'd have to push all of her feelings for Aizen Sousuke aside. It would take a gargantuan amount of effort. The energy for which she didn't think she had in her. But she would do it. She would get herself back on track. Without him. She would put herself back together, piece by excruciating piece. If only so that she could see him again, make him face what he had done to her.

She would still love him. Of course, she would still love him. He was her first love, and there would always be a space in her heart where he resided. He'd been a huge part of her life, and she couldn't erase that fact. And pushing those feelings away would be difficult. But she knew it was something she'd have to do. Because the world didn't stop turning just because Aizen Sousuke had left it. Life, as they said, goes on.

She also needed to push her feelings aside because she wanted to figure out when exactly things had gone so badly wrong. She wanted to know at which point she actually became all those things Ichimaru said she was. If only so she could avoid the same mistakes the next time. She breathed in deeply, and sighed slowly. Taking a deep, cleansing breath as she closed her eyes. Trying to remember. Trying to pinpoint the one fatal mistake in a series of many that led to her being here in this hospital bed.


End file.
